


In the Mood for a Melody

by ByTheAngell (SomeLittleInfamy)



Series: Flufftober 2019 [11]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pianist Jace, mundane AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-12 05:27:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20994695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomeLittleInfamy/pseuds/ByTheAngell
Summary: Simon recognizes Jonathan, the classical pianist, despite the fact that he's wearing jeans playing rock songs on a piano in a dingy bar. But when it becomes obvious the musician doesn't want to be recognized, Simon plays dumb, which might be the smartest move he's ever made.





	In the Mood for a Melody

**Author's Note:**

> Flufftober Day 11: Hands.

Simon is absolutely mesmerized by the hands trailing expertly along the black and white keys of the piano. It’s situated off to the side of the bar’s seating area, mostly ignored by the patrons inside who order their drinks and talk loudly over the music being performed, but the pianist doesn’t seem to mind. For a while Simon can’t even tell if he’s  _ supposed  _ to be there or if this is one of those ‘here’s an instrument, play if you want’ sort of things that he sees around the city once and awhile. 

Simon only meant to grab a quick drink but stays for a second, and then a third. There’s something so familiar about the musician that Simon just can’t place… something about parts of the popular music he plays that sounds so  _ familiar _ , something about the blond man’s profile Simon catches glimpses of in the shifting dim light… 

The pianist has to be classically trained, there’s no way around it. Despite the fact that he bounces between pop and rock and alternative songs Simon, who takes his music studies seriously, can spot that sort of skill when he sees it. What the hell is this guy doing hiding out in the dark corner of a bar like this when he should be on stages, in front of halls full of people? He doesn’t even have a tip jar!

It’s an idle thought until the man stops playing after an impressive performance of ‘Piano Man’ by Billy Joel. The abrupt end to the music Simon’s so intently focused on feels like an immediate loss, and Simon instinctively looks over to watch the pianist stand up and go to the bar. Under the better lighting Simon sees the man’s eyes and that’s when he realizes he knows  _ exactly _ who the man behind the behind the piano is: Jonathan Wayland. 

Jonathan Wayland, the classical pianist, a twenty-something prodigy who just finished a world tour of concert halls accompanied by James Carstairs. 

Simon stands and walks over to the bar as well, under the excuse of getting another refill. “Hey,” Simon says after a deep breath. “I just, uh, wanted to say I really enjoyed the music tonight. You’re, like,  _ really _ good.” 

Jonathan smiles. “I just really enjoy playing,” he says. 

“I’m Simon, by the way,” Simon introduces himself, waiting for the moment Jonathan says his name so Simon can launch into how he got balcony seats to his show in Sydney because it just happened to be while he was visiting a friend, and-

“I’m Jace,” the blonde says, and that’s when Simon realizes - Jonathan (or, rather,  _ Jace _ ) doesn’t  _ want _ to be recognized here. That’s probably the whole point of playing rock piano in a dive bar for free when Simon knows for a fact the insane amount of money people would pay for what most of the patrons here tonight just talked over. 

“Jace,” Simon repeats, stalling for a moment to collect himself and re-route his entire train of thought. The bartender brings Jace’s drink over and before he can pull out his money Simon’s sliding over a $20 to cover both of their drinks. The bartender, Maia, looks down at the money then up at Jace dubiously, like she knows. ‘ _ Does she know?’ _ Simon wonders. “It’s on me,” Simon says, adding quickly when Jace opens his mouth to argue, “Dude, you don’t even have a tip jar, it’s the least I can do.” 

Jace looks conflicted for a moment before taking his card and sliding it back into the pocket of his dark jeans. “Alright. Thanks, Simon.” Jace gives Simon a quick, considering look before adding, “But only if the next one’s on me.” 

It takes a few seconds for the implication of that sentence to sink in, but once it does Simon beams. “Deal.”  
  
They go back to the table Simon was at before and start talking. Jace says he’s between jobs (technically not a lie) and that he mostly travels (also technically true), and the two of them talk until the lights come on for last call. 

“Shit, when did it get so late?” Jace realizes, blinking against the sudden brightness. It’s the hint of disappointment Simon thinks he sees in Jace’s expression that gives him the confidence to blurt out an invitation back to his place to keep talking (and drinking, if they want), which Jace takes him up on. 

They exchange numbers, texting often, calling occasionally, and meeting up while Jace is still in the city for the next month. They get along surprisingly well but Simon can feel something shift after a few weeks. It isn’t until he checks online that he realizes why - Jace is due to leave the country again in seven days, and he hasn’t said a word about it. 

If Simon thought he was nervous for the horror movie they’re meant to see in two hours it’s nothing compared to the nerves he feels over dinner when he prompts, 

“You seem… off, lately. Is something wrong?” Simon braces himself. 

“I-- no. And yes. Simon, I’ve had the best time with you the past few weeks,” Jace says, and Simon can feel his face fall as his heart clenches in his chest. “You’ve been nothing but amazing and I-- I’ve been lying to you this whole time.” 

“I wouldn’t say that,” Simon points out. “You told a lot of really clever half-truths.” 

Jace looks confused, as this is clearly not the reaction he’s expecting. “What?” 

“I know who you are. I mean, obviously, we’ve been going out all month. But I mean I know who you  _ are.  _ Professionally.” Simon clarifies. 

“For how long?” Jace demands. 

“Since the first time we met,” Simon admits. “I’m sorry. I should’ve said something, but you just seemed so set on keeping it a secret and I didn’t want to make things awkward.” 

“Does that mean you’re a fan?” Jace asks, eyebrow quirked. 

“...I might’ve seen you in concert once. And own two of your concert hall albums, one on vinyl.” Simon tries to shrug but there’s the faintest hint of a blush high on his cheeks. 

“Then I suppose we’re even, because I’m a pretty big Simon Lewis fan myself these days,” Jace says, the incredibly cheesy (but also impressively smooth) line nearly melting Simon into a puddle then and there. Still, Jace seems uncertain when he asks, “So where does that leave us?” 

Simon considers this. “Well… it leaves me waiting eagerly for your return from Europe. That is, if you still want me to be waiting when you come back?” 

Jace smiles, reaching across the table to take Simon’s hands in his own. “Always.” 

**Author's Note:**

> (Find me on [Tumblr](http://bytheangell.tumblr.com) and also on [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/By_The_Angell)! <3 )


End file.
